


what happened to the soul that you used to be?

by joshlerz



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Boypussy, Incest, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnancy Kink, joshler - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:15:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7334740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshlerz/pseuds/joshlerz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>tyler wants to be pregnant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what happened to the soul that you used to be?

He has dreams, sometimes. Dreams where his womb is full, seed transforming into life, hands running up and down over the swell of his belly, fingers circling the rise of an innie forced outie. 

Tyler dreams of being pregnant. It's like an urge that his body has, screaming at him when he's in heat, get fucked get screwed get used like he's a toy, dick in dick out every night until his hole is bruised and swollen and achy, oozing cum until his cervix closes and stores it inside, and that's when he prays that his body will let him have the baby he truly wants.

His thoughts extend to whoever's in close range -- usually it's Josh, but he's thought about his brothers and his dad getting him pregnant before, all taking turns, running a train on him until he cries and taking care of him when he's fat and swollen, belly curved with the litter of pups they've bestowed upon him like a fucked up Christmas gift.

Tyler doesn't really think about what might happen if he actually gets pregnant, because babies are a lot of work and time and money and effort, but he'll be damned if he doesn't finger himself to the thought of Josh knocking him up, laying in bed with him, rubbing his hands over his belly and pressing his fingers in to feel the hard little lumps and knobs where their child presses against his skin, eager to escape and finally face the world.

He doesn't say meet, because facing the world is what everyone does in the long run, anyway.

And Tyler knows Josh would be a good father. He knows, somewhere deep in the pit of his soul, that Josh would love and care for and sing to their baby, sing them the songs that Tyler makes up in the shower when he's bored, little lullabies to a ukulele beat. He wants Josh to cradle his belly, slide his hands to the bottom and hold the soft part where their baby's head presses, Josh pressing his forehead against Tyler's as they sway around the room to an imaginary beat.

The sex would be good, he knows. There's many a night where he imagines sitting on Josh's dick, rolling his hips and shifting so he hits that one spot, the soft spot at the back that makes him see stars, and there's other nights that he sees Josh pounding into him, Tyler on his hands and knees, belly swinging and so heavy that it almost touches the bed, and Josh nudges pillows underneath of him after and caresses him so gently that he cries.

That's all he wants -- a baby, Josh's baby, and it burns inside him like his cunt burns and swells and flows when he's thinking of shit like this, and Tyler slides his hand down his pants, rubbing himself to the thought of Josh tweaking his nipples, pert, pink nipples harder than a rock, small drops of milk beading at the top, while Josh leans forward and rasps his tongue over him, Tyler's back arching off the bed and his toes curling as he speaks in foreign tongues comprised of pleasure and soft noises.

He stands in front of his mirror with pillows stuffed under his shirt, but it's not the real thing -- he wants a belly, heavy with baby, something pushing and nudging against him, settling in his hips and pressing against his bladder. He's skinny, so he knows he'd protrude almost obscenely, and he's half hard again imagining how his clothes won't fit, no more boxers, he's going to have to wear bikini fit underwear he'll steal from his sister's dresser, and even then they won't be enough to support the monstrous swell of his belly. Sometimes he thinks of what would happen if he had twins, triplets, even, an entire litter, and how he'd be bedridden, Josh taking care of him, making sure the timer doesn't tick tick tick down so he doesn't have their babies early.

Tyler doesn't really imagine what life with a baby would actually be like. He just wants Josh to hold him, go to the doctor with him, be there when their child enters the world, screaming and squalling against the cold air. He does imagine how soon after he could have another baby, humps his pillows and shoves his own fingers in his mouth as he imagines a toddler pulling at his shirt while he's holding an infant and another grows deep within his belly, barefoot and pregnant, the prodigal housewife, Josh worshipping him and making sure he's nothing short of loved and cared for.


End file.
